Katherine Ch. 15-16

But even so, working away at the back of my mind was the thought that Katherine had had an idea about doing something special for me. And even though I couldn't imagine what part moving the sofa and cushions could have in that, that thought, coupled with the knowledge of what she was capable of, was in itself more than enough to trigger a rising sense of anticipation. And that sense, plus what all my others were experiencing was more than enough to trigger a steadily increasing rate of response, and like in any other man, most of that showed itself in just one place, in my cock.

As we stood there, her soft fingers continuing to slowly caress me I felt the pulse in my cock gradually strengthening, then the shaft, at first almost imperceptibly, lengthening and thickening. When Katherine felt that reaction she slightly increased the pressure of her fingers, curling them around it just a little more firmly before starting to push the still loose folds of skin back and forth. Needless to say, once started the effect all too quickly escalated and it wasn't long before she was able to add to the sensations I was getting. At first she did that by pushing her other hand down between us, between us and up between my legs, and then also started rolling and gently squeezing my balls. But then she increased the pressure that was building inside me by slowly and gently rubbing the head of my stiffening cock up and down against the silky soft skin of her thigh.

Although I'd really been enjoying the pleasures of our previous undemanding embrace, as always, the pure magic of Katherine's fingers worked their spell on me, well at least on my cock, and it took only a couple of minutes of that combination to have it once again strainingly erect.

For what was either her own, sometimes hard to understand pleasure, or perhaps it was just to make sure that the pressure she'd raised wasn't suddenly going to drop again, but whatever her reasons, she kept me at that level for a little longer. But then, whatever her motivation had been, she stopped, moved back from me, and said. 'Right, let's get ourselves more comfortable darling.'

She had me sit down on the floor, well on the single cushion she'd put in front of the sofa, so I had it behind me to provide support, then splayed my legs wide apart and pushed the other two up between them. 'Mmm, it looks really impressive at that angle.' she said as she stared down at my vertically rearing cock. 'I must try a few pictures of you like that that one day.' she added as she stepped one foot on either side of my legs, then lowered herself down on to the cushions she'd positioned between them.

By then I was already gripped by two powerful emotions; the sexual tension she'd so skilfully created inside me, and the curiosity as to what she had in mind for us to do with it. And although the glimpse was brief, because her feet were spread so far apart, as she lowered herself down she gave me a third, a momentarily completely unobstructed view of her pussy. Of not only the neatly trimmed triangle of rich, bright coppery coloured hair, but also the sweet honey-pot of delights beneath it. So whether it was because of the physical tension she'd already built, or perhaps because she'd told me it was temporarily 'off-limits', but whichever, and as I said, although it was all too brief, at that moment I found the sight of it even more exciting than usual.

But then as she settled herself down on the cushions that stirring view was of course all but blocked off by the quiveringly swollen bulk of my cock. Once comfortable Katherine reached forward and pressed her hands lightly down against my thighs, and what she told me next finally let me know exactly what she'd been thinking, she said. 'Now, while I take care of your physical reality you can drift off while you recall and relive whatever ideas went through your head when you were painting.'

A quick glance up over her shoulder confirmed the practicality of what she'd said. She'd positioned the sofa so precisely that I could see the entire portrait, and seeing it from that angle for the very first time made me realise that it was an even more ideal position than the one from which I'd actually painted it. Until that precise moment I would have said I knew everything there was to know about the painting, could have given the intention behind every subtle shift of colour, every single brush stroke. But seeing it from there made her pose even more seductively erotic than I'd always previously found it, and in some ways it was almost as though I was in fact suddenly seeing it for the very first time.

Her eyes were looking straight down into mine and both they and the seductively suggestive half smile on her mouth carried much more than just a hint of the pleasures it had always promised. And below them, below the mouth-wateringly upcurving swell of her breasts, were what would provide that. One hand lifted, its fingers beckoning to me, the other resting, waiting, but already curled to the shape of the cock that she fully expected would soon be filling it.

And, as though offering me an alternative to the unimaginably intense thrills those hands were always ready to provide, was her pussy. With one leg thrust straight forward and the other bent, its knee pushed to one side, I had clear, totally unobstructed view of it. In my head I ignored the doubt and conflict I'd set out to create when originally painting it, choosing to believe its condition had been brought on by what she was seeing, me, or at least the fully aroused state of my cock. The outer, darkly swollen lips poutingly open, already glistening with the moist slickness the sight of it had stimulated. The inner, paler pink entrance also showing, and above them, just peeping from under its hood, the already excitedly swollen tip of her clitoris.

But, as entrancing and stirring as that part of her was, given the strength of my long held personal predilection it's not surprising that it was her hand that my gaze soon drifted back up to. And, as they refocused on those long, suggestively curled fingers I felt an electrifying bolt of pleasure shoot through me. It was as though those very same fingers were really closing around me, as though I could actually feel the cool, soft length of them gently encircling my quivering cock.

And of course I could, when she'd seen the look in my eyes changing as I began staring at the painting, Katherine had begun doing what she'd said she was going to - take care of my reality, by which of course she'd meant, my cock.

It had been Katherine's suggestion that while she did that I should allow myself to drift off, relive some of the thoughts and fantasies I'd had when I was doing the painting, and although the reality of just the lightest touch of her hands was so sublime I really didn't need to, I still did so.

Most of the thoughts I'd had while painting had been based on actual memories of the wonderful things Katherine had already done for me.

Memories such as those of the very first evening we'd met, at the art gallery, when she'd given me that totally unexpected and quite massive climax, in her kitchen. I could still hear the sound of her voice crying excitedly- 'Oh, that's five, no six tiles, a positively 'star' performer.' - as her hand continued pumping spurts of semen that added to the already large number of wet splotches on the tiled floor in front of me. Then, after I'd returned the favour by licking and sucking her to her own climax we'd made for her bed-room and spent the next hour or so totally draining each other.

Memories such as the first time we'd used the little present she'd brought back from her trip to Taiwan, the cock-ring. I don't think even Katherine expected it to have quite such a dramatic effect as it did, and she certainly couldn't have faked the hoarse catch in her voice and absolutely awed expression on her face when she saw how much bigger my cock got with it on. And because it had got so massively, almost grotesquely swollen and become so hyper-sensitive she'd spread some oil on her hands to help me last longer by reducing their friction, and that little trick had also worked wonders.

That was the first time we'd used the mirror to augment the intensity of what we were both experiencing, and it proved to be so effective that that first time she'd got so excited she'd had to finish me off in what she'd called 'the old-fashioned way', by simply fucking me. Other times she'd retained sufficient self-control to do what she really preferred to do, slowly masturbate me to what were always truly explosive climaxes.

Then there were the memories of the all the other times those hands had either thrilled and excited me, taking me to what I would have thought impossibly unbelievable heights of ecstasy, or had merely been the precursors to many other, more traditional, but still deeply satisfying ways of fulfilling each other's needs.

And of course sprinkled through all of those were also the memories of Katherine's reactions after she'd been watching what I'd allowed other hands to do for me, in the studio.

So I lay back, Katherine straddling my outstretched legs, her hands and fingers slowly working their very special brand of magic, and as I stared up at the erotically charged painting of her I let my mind wander through those memories.

The combination proved to be super-effective. Although most of the time my eyes were fixed on her portrait, every now and then I'd glance at either Katherine, or down at what her hands were doing to my cock, and both told their own story. By then I could read the various expressions on her face so well that I could tell just how excited she was getting from handling me, and even if I hadn't had any feeling in my body just the colour and size of my cock would have indicated just how proficiently she was doing that. But of course I did have feeling and even if for some perverse reason I had wanted to, the waves of exquisite pleasure that were coursing up through me would have been just too strong to ignore.

At some stage she must have remembered how successful the cock-ring had proved in delaying and intensifying my earlier climax because she used one hand to do something quite similar. While one set of fingers continued their thrilling stimulation the others took a firm grip around the base of the shaft, and although she couldn't constrict it as tightly as the metal ring had she still managed to create a very similar effect for me.

My head span from all the inputs that were flooding my brain; the images, the memories, the physical sensations. And making all those even stronger was the underlying knowledge that what Katherine was doing for me was a gift, she neither needed nor expected anything from me in return, just seeing my enjoyment and then the ultimate blissful satisfaction she would give me was to be all the reward she wanted.

As she always did, once she'd worked me up to the point where just a few more brief strokes would bring on my orgasm, she held me there. She knew perfectly well that by then my body would be screaming for release, every single muscle locked as taut as bow-string and the ache in my balls intensifying by the moment, but she still did no more than would be enough to maintain, perhaps even increase that feverish pressure she'd built inside me. And that time she seemed determined to hold me there even longer than usual, or maybe it was just that because of the state I was in it just seemed longer.

Then some time during those minutes of rapturous torture I felt my glazed and half closed eyes drawn back up to the portrait, saw that the look in the eyes there had become much more intense, the smile on the mouth tighter, the expression on her face far more expectant. And even as the meaning behind those changes registered I felt Katherine's hands shifting; the one gripping tight, released me, the other began slowly pumping.

I tore my eyes away from the staring portrait and looked down. In the brief moment of clarity that was still left to me I saw that the fingers that had held me in such a tight grip had begun briskly rubbing her clitoris. But then nothing mattered but the feelings that literally ripped through me.

The strength of them was so utterly overwhelming that I didn't even realise she had pumped the first load out of me until, through a haze of exquisite pleasure-pain, as though caught in slow motion, I saw a spout of semen shooting upwards, splashing messily across her face.

My entire body arched upwards, thrusting my wildly throbbing cock even higher, and then as I watched her hand thrust firmly downwards, it exploded again, semen fountaining from the gaping slit and spewing up across her chest and breasts.

The upper levels of my brain simply cut-out as the incredible rapture grew stronger and I slipped into a state of utterly blissful euphoria as she continued using those strong, slow, pumping actions to completely drain me, the separate peaks that must have accompanied each eruption merging and blending into one.

And that was how it all started. The flow-on of business from the two portfolios of erotica, of me and the group of the three of us, was phenomenal. Katherine even started getting more regular, purely commercial work from people who had seen one or other of the various strictly limited editions she sold. And although she kept demand for the more private work high by limiting the amount she did, from time to time I was called in to provide 'Mr Reliable' for a few shots.

Then, quite unbeknownst to me, she had a portrait agent round to see the painting I had done of her. He apparently liked what he saw and soon I was getting commissions from him for a variety of quite high profile people. Some of those were as odd as the private work Katherine was doing, usually coming from extremely successful business-men who wanted a painting similar to the one I had done of Katherine, of their mistress.

The agent and I made sure they paid extremely well for those, and it became quite usual for me to receive an offer of a more personal kind of payment from the sitter, which, as Katherine was keeping me more than fully sexually satisfied, I of course always politely refused.

Not too long after all that had swung into place Katherine and I realised there were too many synergies between what we did professionally to miss out on the commercial opportunities they gave us, so we went into a business partnership that proved just as successful as our personal one.

A year or so later, with money rolling in quite steadily we decided to save the time and inconvenience that was involved in shuttling back and forth between her place and mine, and bought a building we could convert to house both studios and an apartment above.

And that's where we are to this day, working together, and frequently downing tools to satisfy each other's somewhat unusual needs, enjoying a seemingly ever strengthening sex-life.

Kerrie and Lizzie made a go of it for a while, but either Kerrie's charms wore off, or Lizzie decided her sexual preferences were actually straight. Although she continued occasionally working and posing for Katherine she moved away a few months later and we lost track of her. But whenever the Degas print catches my eye I'm reminded of the other Belinda, and the exciting pleasures those slender white fingers gave me.

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